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“Ouch.” Enzo dramatically rubs his head. “Took a fucking bullet to this brain for you, big brother,” he huffs.
“Stop asking stupid fucking questions then,” Leo fires back. “Right, Jake, talk to me. What do we have?”
“So, I haven’t had any more sightings of either of them. From the records, I can confirm that the baby will be anywhere from four to six weeks old, depending on when she had the baby.” Jake shoots an apologetic glance my way.
I hold up my hand to tell him it’s not his fault.
Fuck!
It’s all my fucking fault.
I also feel like the world’s biggest asshole keeping this from Cam.
CARMELLLA
Six weeks old and Andrea is thriving. From what both my ma and Al’s have said, he’s a really good baby. He feeds well and even sleeps most of the night already.
I haven’t been out of the apartment yet. Mel, Sergio’s wife, has been helping me with everything I need.
Today, I’m finally getting to go and meet Bea’s baby girl. Sergio is taking us, and Al will pick us up when he’s finished at the office.
Bea practically bounces as she opens the door.
“I’m so pleased you’re here.” She flings her arms around me.
Andrea is sleeping in his carrier, completely undisturbed.
I let out anoofas her squeeze makes me tense which sends a searing pain across my scar. It’s still tender.
“Sorry,” she pulls back and tucks her bottom lip between her teeth as she looks up at me with wide guilty eyes.
“You can tell you didn’t have a cesarean.” I grin at her to let her know she’s not hurt me.
“Hey, beautiful boy. Do you want to meet your little cousin?” Bea coos as I look down and see Andrea’s eyes wide open and staring straight up at her. “Can I get him out?” she gestures to the carrier.
“Of course. You don’t have to ask.” I smile down at my son who’s taking in his first venture away from the apartment.
I grab the change bag and follow Bea into her snug room. Lying in a crib that looks like it was made for a princess is the tiniest little baby girl.
How in only six weeks Andrea has got so big, I don’t know. Andrea wasn’t this tiny even when I first had him.
Bea had Sofia at thirty-six weeks due to pre-eclampsia. So that probably explains why she’s so tiny at only a week old and weighing just under five pounds. So, under half of what my chunky son now weighs.
“Oh, Bea, she’s so beautiful. Look at her, she’s so tiny,” I gush as I stare over at the sleeping beauty.
“You can pick her up, I only just fed her, so she shouldn’t wake just yet.” I turn as she’s looking down at my son. “No, she shouldn’t.” She nuzzles her nose to his as she talks to him in that stupid voice all moms seem to develop when they have a baby, me included.
Bending over, I pick up the little princess and hold her in my arms, she’s such a pretty little thing. With tiny little features and big pouty lips.
We talk about how we’re both transitioning into motherhood and the joys of the flood of hormones that cause a rollercoaster of emotions.
Before long they both want feeding.
“Are your parents flying in for Elena’s fundraiser this weekend?” Bea asks as she brings the bottle to Sofia’s lips.
Their feeding times seem to be in sync as Andrea is currently nursing at my breast.
“I wish I could have breastfed,” Bea mutters as she stares lovingly down at Sofia.
